


A Night Without Sherlock

by rory_the_faery



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feels, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rory_the_faery/pseuds/rory_the_faery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Reichenbach drabble...no real plot here, just some angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Without Sherlock

John watched as his flatmate fell, keeping his eyes fixed on him, exactly as Sherlock had asked him to. John reached his hands out, grasping at the air, trying to catch his friend. He bolted across the road, pushing through the mass of people "Let me through, I'm a doctor...he's my friend...let me see him, he's my friend...please, I'm a doctor -"

John's eyes opened. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, rubbing his temples. Sherlock's vacant coat and scarf laid beside him on his bed. His hands grasped them and clung tightly; tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the fabric of the detective's coat.

John stood and went to the kitchen. He dug around in the fridge for something to eat, but he hadn't any appetite. He hadn't eaten a proper meal in weeks, living off scotch and whiskey and occasionally Mrs Hudson would make tea and biscuits for the two of them.

John went into the sitting room and sat in Sherlock's chair. He picked up Sherlock's violin and looked upon it with sad eyes.

The violin hadn't been played since Sherlock's death. Mrs Hudson couldn't play and neither could John, so it just sat in the corner collecting dust. All alone.

John brushed the thin layer of dust off and held the violin in his arms like a child. "It's okay. I miss Sherlock too."

John looked out of the window the Sherlock always used to gaze out while he was thinking about a case. John simply stared out the window for over an hour until his weariness got the better of him and he drifted off to sleep again.

He was back in Afghanistan. John saw one of the soldiers had curly brown hair that John recognised...it couldn't be...

"Sherlock?"

The soldier didn't hear him, or was ignoring him. John caught a glimpse of his face.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, what are you -"

Sherlock fell to the ground.

"SHERLOCK!"

John ran to his flatmate and knelt beside him, applying pressure to the wound. Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed.

"Sherlock no, Sherlock..Sherlock stay with me please, don't go..I'm begging you..You can't die, Sherlock, please, stay..for me, please..Sherlock!"

John awoke on the floor of the sitting room in 221B Baker St. The lonely violin still sat in Sherlock's chair, Hebut John must've fallen onto the floor. He held Sherlock's scarf to his chest and stared out the window, his eyes filled with tears.

"Stop being dead, Sherlock. Could you just do that for me?"


End file.
